


To the World we Dream About (And the one we live in now)

by Maedom



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Hadestown - Mitchell, Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Although Jack gets beat up by some of the workers, And I want to add more depth to Spot, Davey as Eurydice, Honestly deciding who was who was so hard, Hopefully it sounds better now, I don't think there's any trigger warnings, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Inspired by Hadestown, Inspired by Orpheus and Eurydice (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Jack as Orpheus, Multi, Race is Persephone, So i'm back and I've fixed it because I hated how dependent I was on the lyrics for my writing, Spot Conlon is Bad at Feelings, Spot is Hades, The fates are more evil because I said so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-08-19 18:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20214211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maedom/pseuds/Maedom
Summary: “It’s a sad one mija. It’s a tragedy, an old tale,” He smiled gently at the book picking up it’s edges gingerly.She shook her head,“But it’s pretty,” She insisted, showing him the cover despite the fact that he knew it by heart.He sighed and nodded, drawing her up onto his lap and opening the book.“Once upon a time there was a railroad line…”





	1. Road to Hell

**Author's Note:**

> I already posted this, but I rewrote it in a way that feels more natural and that will allow me to continue this story! Let me know how you like it?! It's going to be a little different from the musical and I'm changing some things, (the fates are a little more evil in this because I believe Spot is a good boy) But that's all I'll say! ENJOY!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's an old tale from way back when, and we're gonna sing it again,"

She skimmed her bookshelf looking for something to read, her hand landing on a coarse book with fraying edges. There was a slight layer of dust on the book, and yet the thing that intrigued the young girl the most was the intricate artwork on the cover and the words that seemed to be written in another language. She tugged the book from the shelf and brought it over to her grandfather. She shoved the book in his hand, her curls falling over her eyes as she asked what it is about. 

The old man shook his head at the sight of the book, gazing bittersweetly as she hopped onto his lap. He pulled her to his chest “It’s a sad one mija. It’s a tragedy, an old tale,” He smiled gently at the book picking up it’s edges gingerly. 

She shook her head,  
“But it’s pretty,” She insisted, showing him the cover despite the fact that he knew it by heart.  
He sighed and nodded, drawing her up onto his lap and opening the book. 

“Once upon a time there was a railroad line…”

-

The old man sighed, clearing his throat as he cracked open the cover, the hoarse feeling of the old paper spark something inside of him as he turned the first page. He felt the words fill him again as an old melody began to course through his mind.

A train whistle blew. People shifted. In the distance you could hear the persistent huff and puff of a train clacking across the rails. Cries, screams and sighs echoed from the mess of people at the station all of them standing and waiting impatiently. All of them standing and waiting.

From the opposite end of the tracks gold wings began to part the dust and dirt. Eyes shifted to the figure that began to walk closer, paying no more attention to him once they saw that he was not a train. The figure scanned his eyes across the crowd, he already knew everyone on the station but he was not here for them. He shifted the staff in his hand as he let out hum. The wind stopped. He let out a laugh again as the hum echoed around him and people began to shift hearing the wind still and a melody come in through the wind. He nodded as he heard the melody once again. He lifted his staff in the air and as the old tune drifted toward him he smiled as the song wrapped around four hearts and pulled them along with the song.

-

From the only train on that railroad a boy with a head of blonde hair stood by the door, his foot tapping and his fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of bag filled to the brim with flowers and wine. A cocky grin stuck itself to the boy’s face as humanity began to come back into view and he left the dark behind. With a gush of wind the boy heard the wind sweep through, his bottles rattling as he heard a song that he hadn’t heard in millenia. The train stopped. His eyes snapped open and his body tensed. He shook his head and ran to the window before the train started moving again. He gazed around the traincar suspiciously before reaching down and taking a swig out of a bottle.

-

At the other end of the railway the wind began to push itself into the dark. A warm melody penetrating and pushing through to the place where the sun no longer shone. The wind pushed farther to the end until it ended at a throne. Hands curled into fists as workers fell in line. The mechanic push and pull echoed through the Earth. Hot and bright light poured through with echoes of pain and sharp sounds of stone hitting stone filled the King’s ears. Walls moved with flicks of hands and souls were snatched away with the sign of a pen. The wind pushed through. And for a second it came to a grinding stop. A piercing sound followed by a warm melody, a forgotten song of love began to work its way into the King’s heart. The king growled before pushing the lights back on and the song away.

-

The figure still stood at the opposite end of the road. Golden wings on his feet and a smile on his face as he hummed and tapped his foot people watching and listening as if they could understand the importance of the song simply from the joy on the man’s face. They watched as the song swirled and twisted down and up the road around a train and a round a throne before returning back to the man and into his hand.

He looked at all of the people and smiled before the god cupped the song in his hands and blew.

-

There was a boy who sat at that certain train station, one who had heard every song that the winged God had singed, a naive boy who much preferred his fantasies and art than to the rest of the world. He sat on the roof of the building staring at people and imagining how the world could be. Charcoal flitted across paper and dreams of other places out West filled the page. He bit the corner of his lip and closed his eyes not even noticing the melody that began to wrap around his mind. 

He simply sat his book down and laid flat, staring at the sky, poor, and hungry, but content, happy with what he saw. 

-

From a distance three old women, all dressed the same, watched the boy on the roof, they laughed and smiled oblivious to the song that their fellow God was spinning right below them. One of the women held out a piece of thread and each of them nodded as she began to feed it back into the wheel. They laughed.

-

And as the last part of the song fell into place it wrapped itself around the hand of a young boy, his hands tightly gripped around match as it burnt out in his hand. The tired, lonely boy just ignored the pain and continued walking. Continued going, knowing that it was no longer his decision where he would end up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and Kudos are appreciated  
(I sound like a real writer saying that hehe)  
Come yell at me on Tumblr @feistyshortstop


	2. Any Way the Wind Blows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In the end, you're better off alone. Any way the wind blows,"

“You see, it was said that those three women would follow that boy to the end of the world, clutching his life to their chests,” 

They were who set the fire and destroyed everything he had ever known. They were the ones who cut his family’s lives short and who pushed him from town to town. For wherever it was this boy went, the fates were not far behind. 

Davey was a hungry young boy. He had run away from anywhere he’d ever been. Run away from every home. 

But ass the wind and song pushed him forwards he pulled his jacket around him tighter, attempting to force out the cold that he knew so well. He shook his head, stepping over rocks and dirt, navigating the road that he had traveled upon for so long. 

He tilted his head up to the sky wrinkling his nose at the dim sun. The wind blew his hair up in the air as he readjusted his bag. He knew the weather all too well, feeling the wind pushing him to another town. There was no longer Spring or Fall, just the blazing sun and the numbing cold. He blew out his candle, stuffing it into his bag. Knowing there was nothing to do but to continue trekking on. Continue following the weather, continue searching for food and leaving home further and further behind. 

He tilted his head smiling sadly to himself, almost sensing the dark clouds that were gathering far away. No one in their right mind would stick around for that storm, and neither would he. He began to walk, not knowing where he was going, just knowing that he was going away.

Davey had no friends. It was just him. He had known how fast the wind and his life could change. He knew how fast people could turn on him. He was better alone. He was better ignoring the soreness in his bones, and the emptiness in his stomach. 

But sometimes he would think that there was nothing he wouldn’t do just to feel safe again. Nothing he wouldn’t give to be somewhere where misfortune didn’t follow him, where the weather wouldn’t always be pushing him away.

He knew it was almost Springtime and yet there was no sign that nature was paying attention to what was normal. He continued to walk on, never looking back from where he came from.

-

The fates smiled as they blew the wind behind Davey’s back unaware that maybe it was an old song that was also bringing him toward that boy. 

\- 

Jack was the son of a muse. It was said that he was touched by the gods himself. And although he was poor he was able to look at the world in a way that no one else could, he was able to see the colors and light in places where shadows and dark took over. He laid it all out on paper, or said it to the wind, not knowing the power that his words held.

He ground together more herbs, the tips of his fingers a dark purple from all the paint he had been making. He smiled as he began to paint, blending and finding colors, creating an entire world on the canvas. For as blind as he was to the storms and the wind around him he was able to see everything that held the world together.

-

Davey hadn’t known how long he hadn’t felt his feet. He just knew that it was cold and that he couldn’t remember them being them warm, nonetheless feeling them. He trudged down the road, following the path he had been on for ages. He did not see or feel the fates who blew the wind behind his back and who pushed him toward someone who he did not know.

He rubbed his hands together, breathing into them in an attempt to warm up. He had been alone for so long that he had begun to forget what it would be like to have someone there beside him. He trudged on, feeling the weight of his bag as heavy as the weight of his past. He pushed out images and memories, destroying everything of David Jacobs except for a small candle.

He no longer paid attention to where he ended up, knowing that he would stay here for as long as the weather was nice, before packing up and walking away. He smiled bitterly at the village laid before him, dense with trees and flowers, smoke billowing from chimneys. He walked to the center of the town as darkness fell over the sky, planning to sleep in a small alleyway that he had found near the edge of town. He propped his bag up against the wall, digging through his bag for a candle and his box of matches. Gingerly, he pulled out the candle placing it gently beside him before rummaging for the matches. When he pulled out an empty box he sighed and shut the bag, deciding that he should get some food anyway. 

He walked through the streets staring through the windows at smiling families and warm beds. Gods, what he wouldn’t give to sleep in a warm bed again. As he followed the lights down the street he came to a restaurant with shouts and laughter and light brimming from inside. He figured it would be easy to steal something and pushed open the door stumbling in from the cold. A smile began to grow on his face as he looked around, taking in the lights and the dancing, feeling something resembling a home. He slowly peeled off his jacket, draping it over a chair as he wandered around. He was so caught up in finding food that he didn’t notice the boy who was suddenly taken with him from across the room. 

-

Jack was a naive boy. Having grown up without parents, having been used to only the small town, never leaving, never seeing anything else. He always enjoyed watching the festivities unfold every night. Although he never paid much attention to the people, preferring to pay attention to their actions instead. He focused on his work and art, content in being alone.

He continued to scrub the tables, navigating through the crowds, handing out drinks and taking orders. It was just like every normal night, avoiding the dance floor and interacting with the usuals. 

He grinned as a bargoer pulled out a lyre and began to accompany the band. He tapped his hand against his leg, taking in the rhythm. He felt his spirits lift, as they did every night, reminded of how beautiful the world could be. For in a small town in the middle of nowhere, they were able to make it feel like the center of the universe. The lights began to dim, the trumpet ringing brightly through the air as he finally took a break to sit down. He began to clap as a couple began dancing, joining the fun. He was swept up in the music that he barely noticed when the door opened and a stranger stumbled in from the cold. He was prepared to to simply see who it was and then pay no attention, and yet his eyes remained stuck on the stranger. 

Jack prided himself on the fact that he knew everybody who lived in town, so to see a new face shocked him. But it just wasn’t that he didn’t know him. It was those eyes, piercing and sharp, already scanning their surroundings and analyzing everything. Jack stood up slowly in his seat, wanting to do anything to get that boy to talk to him. He felt drawn to him, like some sort of twisted fate. 

The more that he watched the stranger the more he wanted to know. He took in how despite his relatively neat appearance there were things that gave him away, from the slightly frayed ends on his jacket, to the patches on his pants that blended in on first glance, but with a second look was obvious they were taken from somewhere else. Jack watched the way the boy’s hands twitched, almost waiting for something, and how tired the boy looked. 

Jack watched as the boy walked around trying to find an open seat and he stayed hovering, afraid that if he looked away the boy would be nothing but a dream. 

-

Davey had felt the boy’s eyes on him ever since he walked in. Years of preparing for the worst told him that this boy was watching him. He eyed all the exits, slowly walking around and taking in the surroundings. He felt warmed by the atmosphere and yet he knew that he was simply an outsider who would be gone by the next moon. He kept glancing over at the boy unsure if he was still watching him. Davey’s logic told him to swipe some food and leave, but the boy made him want to stay, made him want to talk and dance. In a moment of utter weakness, Davey crossed the dancefloor keeping his head down and pretended to not notice the way his heart began to speed up. 

Nearing the boy, he pulled his candle from it’s pocket, starting forward,  
“Anybody have a match?” 

Jack looked up, feeling around in his pockets for matches, the whole time silently taking in the beauty of the boy who was now so close. He gave a small nod, a slight dazed smile on his face.

“Yeah,” He murmured softly, taking out a match and striking it against the box. 

Davey stuck out the candle, looking up at Jack, studying the boy who was so keen on studying him. Jack cupped his hand over the flame, lighting the burnt down wick, and then waving the match out. They held eye contact for a moment, taking in the light and glow of the candle, and feeling something that neither of them had felt before. 

-

From above the fates watched with a sharp eye, feeling something shift in the air as the candle was lit. They smiled at each other and watched closer, silently spinning the tale not noticing that from a distance one more god watched as well, with a much more gentle smile, and humming softly to himself, a song of love.

**Author's Note:**

> Eeee, That was it! Let me know what you thought!  
Or come scream at me on Tumblr @feistyshortstop


End file.
